


Dichotomy

by inchvormzz



Category: The Dark Crystal: Age of Resistance (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-18 00:35:17
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20630144
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inchvormzz/pseuds/inchvormzz
Summary: Skeksis being banished by their own kind are rare, even for being such cruel creatures. The beliefs of the Mystics, however, is something they will never accept.





	Dichotomy

The hallways of the castle were usually not busy, maybe a few Gelfling guards marching towards one of the many exits, a band of slaves wailing and rushing a tray of steaming food to the Emperor or the Scientist passing him and grumbling to himself. The hallways were usually not busy but never this quiet.

The Ascetic’s claws clicked along the stone floor, his old ears straining against the silence. A sudden rush of footsteps sent him jumping a few inches into the air, snarling at the guards coming his way to hide the panic that had stroked his heart. The few Spriton Gelfling scrambled to a stop in front of the hunched Skeksis, panting and making a quick bow.

“Sorry, m’Lord,” gasped the lead guard, clearing his throat, “It’s our fault, we were in a it of a rush, our apologies.”

“I could see so,” the Ascetic croaked, shifting his squinted eyes from the guard to the hallway they bolted from. A few shouts were echoing down the hall, with the booming voice of the Emperor leading them. The Gelfling stared up at him with fixed postures and obedient eyes as he tilted his head and glared back down at them.

“Do any of you know what is going down there?”

“Oh!” the guard shuffled his feet and cleared his throat again, “Apparently one of the Lords are being kicked out of the castle. I guess we call him an ‘ex-Lord’ now, though.”

The Ascetic’s eyebrows flew up. There were very few Skeksis living outside the castle gates; some were kicked out for treacherous ideas and actions, some decided to live out in the wilderness. The Ascetic shuddered at the idea. Fighting for every parsed of food and every rock for shelter seemed so barbaric, nothing that could compare to the Skeksis’ luxury. One of his members being kicked out was a very big deal, for every creature roaming the castle.

“Thank you, now out of my way!” the Ascetic commanded, pushing past the puzzled guards and towards the Crystal’s chamber. 

He picked through ideas of what could have caused this and how could he miss such a drama-filled moment? The cries grew sharper and louder as the Ascetic approached, his ears ringing.

He shuffled into the stone room and made out his fellow Skeksis, crowding around a whimpering figure that was blocked by the Ascetic’s view. He approached carefully, nudging between the towering General and the Gourmand, who was chuckling to himself.

Crouched along the floor, with back arched like a feral animal, was SkekSher. He had his scrawny arms locked around his body, claw marks raking up his sides. His layers of clothes had been ripped from his back, now tossed savagely by the Emperor’s side. The Skeksis shivered under his glaring kind, whipping his head side to side, looking back with glossy, pitch black eyes.

SkekSher locked eyes with the Ascetic and dread and pity filled the Skeksis’ body, making his heartbeat quicken. The moment was quick, but emotional, as the exile was called back to the Emperor’s face with a clearing of the throat.

SkekSo tilted his head down at him, his expression blank of any sign of sympathy. He snorted, silencing the rest of the cackling birds, and his cold shouts echoing through the room.

“Blacksmith, your time has finally come.”

The Emperor entered the small circle created by the rest of the Skeksis, his fabrics brushing against SkekSher’s back. He squinted down at him, analyzing the trembling, dark body beneath him.

“You’ve ignored my commands too many times to count. You should be ashamed of letting down your Emperor and fellow Skeksis, in fact, it’s almost impossible to call you a Skeksis anymore. To add, you’ve agreed and followed some of the beliefs of the Mystics, pitifully slow creatures who want to return to ancient traditions, breaking down this paradise we have created for ourselves!”

At the last line, the Emperor threw his hands into the air, causing the others to cry and laugh out in celebratory, and SkekSher to lower his head even farther to the ground. In a rush of wind and his claws slamming into the stone floor, the Emperor grabbed the Blacksmith’s long beak shut, eyes dark and menacing.

“We should be torturing you right now, instead of scolding you. It would be unfortunate if we sent you into the unforgiving world, all the while you were bleeding out.”

The Skeksis’ whispering and chuckling died out hearing the cruel words, shuffling of feet and the Blacksmith’s whimpering filling the chamber with a cold aura. The Emperor jerked SkekSher’s mouth out of his claws and growled, swiveling his head around to glare at the staring Skeksis.

“Does anyone have any objections to this fair judgment? Will anyone stand up for this broken, sniveling idiot?”

While rubbing away the Emperor’s aching grip along his beak, SkekSher twisted their head around the circle, pleading for someone to come to his side.

“One of you? Please! Please trust SkekSher! Not as bad!”

He began to grow more anxious and fearful upon seeing the Skeksis’ unchanged expressions, only looking down at him with boredom or smugness. The Blacksmith turned his body to the Ascetic, eyes wild and claws gripping between the stones. Tears were beginning to slip out, almost invisible on his slick with sweat cheeks.

“Oh, SkekCrill, friend? You must help, please. I’m begging you!”

The Blacksmith crawled a few steps closer, raising his hands towards SkekCrill’s. The Ascetic looked down with clouded eyes, thoughts and possibilities running through his old mind, then closed his eyes and tilted his head away. SkekSher’s eyebrows furrowed, dropping his head and letting a tear drip off his chin.

He was dragged away soon after that. Small Gelfling crowded around the weeping Skeksis, tying his hands with rough rope, and pushing him down the halls as the remaining Skeksis laughed, high and victoriously.

A feast was held soon after, any excuse for the creatures to party was taken with eagerness, but SkekCrill slipped out of the room before any plates could arrive. He hurried down the hallway, turning his head every so often to make sure he wasn’t being followed by other curious birds. However, that left him blind to the path in front of him.

Jewelry and metal clanged together as the two Skeksis collided. The Ascetic growled, quiet and low, and glared at the collected figure in front of him. He laughed, calm and high, and laid a gentle but unwanted hand on the Ascetic’s clothed arm.

“Excuse you, Ascetic. Seems you were not looking where you were going,” the Chamberlain droned, blinking slowly as he tilted his head, “Where are you going, anyhow?”

SkekCrill snorted. Any Skeksis unfortunate enough to run into a conversation with SkekSil would know how manipulative he could be. But, he was close to the Emperor, so it was hard to turn him down. The Chamberlain hummed softly as he watched the Ascetic silently roll his eyes.

“I’m only going out to get some fresh air, it’s nothing to pluck your flesh about, Chamberlain. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

The Ascetic shoved past SkekSil, who watched with quiet intentions, and shuffled a few steps down the hall before the Chamberlain’s hand found itself back on his forearm. SkekSil raised an eyebrow towards SkekCrill’s impatient glance.

“You sure you’re not lying to Chamberlain? Friend can tell me the truth.”

Lies rarely slipped past him, SkekCrill was foolish to hope his would work. In honesty, though, the Ascetic hardly ever gave a damn about what the Chamberlain knew or didn’t know. He shoved the other Skeksis’ hand off and glared at him with squinted pupils, half-hidden behind his glasses.

“I’m quite sure. Thank you for asking.” The Ascetic made a leaving small bow to the surprisingly calm Skeksis, and pushed past to continue down the cold, quiet hall. The Chamberlain watched with furrowed eyebrows, then turned back to the busy chamber with a whimper.

The Gelfling hadn’t loaded SkekSher into his final carriage ride, but he stood next to it, surrounded by the tiny group of guards talking up to him, probably questioning him about his banishment. As the lesser creatures spied one of the Lords shuffling their way, they snapped back on track and turned their hushed words into shouting commands, shoving the surprised Skeksis into the dark cart.

“Just wait a minute, Gelfling,” the Ascetic roared, lifting up a twisted hand as he approached, “Pull SkekSher out.”

The guards looked from each other to SkekCrill, then yanked SkekSher, who was halfway in and positioned in an uncomfortable angle, back onto the ground. The exile’s sudden movement imbalanced him, knocking him to the ground and coughing up dust. 

SkekSher glanced up with giant pupils, his mouth twisted into a grimace and his cheeks still wet. His leathery tail curled itself close to his body as his mind rattled with nervous thoughts, staring his possibly ex-friend in the eyes. He left his vicious conceptions as a wrinkled hand bent down to his eye level, however. SkekCrill smiled sadly as he helped his fellow Skeksis to his claws, twisting their fingers together into a firm grasp. 

They locked eyes for a second before the Blacksmith launched into a hug between them, pushing his balding head against the Ascetic’s cheek and drinking in his warmth. The wind blew against them as SkekCrill draped as much of his fabric across SkekSher’s back as he could, determined to give him some kind of luxury he didn’t need to fight for before leaving the territory.

The small troop of Gelfling stared up in surprise as the two parted their hug, green cloth running off the Blacksmith’s skin, and the Skeksis stared at each other. The Ascetic’s forced smile dropped and his grip on their hands weakened.

“I apologize, my friend, for not helping you. It tears my heart up that you have to leave, but you knew how those ideas are treated inside the castle. You’ve seen it with SkekGra, how he was forced out of here with a nail driven through his skull. I know your beliefs are strong, but this is one you knew would put you in danger.”

SkekSher sighed and shook his head, fixating onto the ground instead. “I know, I know. I know of risks, but this... Mystics are right. Crill, look at me, please.”

He lifted the tip of SkekCrill’s beak towards him with a gentle claw, his voice hardening and gesturing to the air around them, causing the Gelfling to watch in wonder.

“We came from different time; from a different home. We do not belong to Thra, as Gelfling, Fizzgig and Podling do. We were one with Mystic, Crill! We were towering figure, beaming with light and full of wisdom,” his eyes, clouded with excitement as he rambled on, suddenly lost their light.

“I am Skeksis, and you, but we know we do is bad. We are bad, Ascetic. We want domination, control of whole planet. Thra will die because us; no Mystics nor Skeksis. Nothing will be alive before long. If we not rejoin with Mystic soon, might be never.”

SkekSher’s smile returned, but this time it was melancholic and tired. He winded his bony fingers between SkekCrill’s again as he whispered, “Help become one with me, Crill. Be strong together!”

SkekCrill gaped back into his old friend’s eyes. He knew the Skeksis didn’t have the best ideas, some causing more damage than they intended, but they were not outright bad. Besides, he didn’t want to leave the paradise he had worked so hard to fit into, just for some silly, ancient story. Did Sher know how impossible the idea was?

The Ascetic shook his head, muttering his denial under his breath. “I can’t, I can’t. I need the Skeksis and they need me. I can’t let down the Emperor.”

SkekSher’s heartbreak was written on his face. His eyes were glossy and his trembling hands dropped the Ascetic’s.

“Understand. Suppose this goodbye, my dear.”

“Yes, goodbye. I wish you luck. Maybe we’ll see each other again someday?”

The exile was silent and his movements were slow and weak. He brushed his beak, larger and more powerful compared to the other, against SkekCrill’s. The action lasted a moment, maybe too short for either, until the quiet Skeksis moved past the crowd of Gelfling and into the carriage.

The Ascetic watched with sad eyes, his friend’s back turned on him and refusing to look his way one last time. He sighed and swiveled to glare back at the castle, now more bitter than he was before. Leaving the guards to begin SkekSher’s final ride, he shuffled back towards the entrance of the warm halls, his mind full of nothing but the exile’s expression of loss. He remained lost in his thoughts, thinking of nothing but the banished Skeksis, for what seemed like trines, and might’ve been.

**Author's Note:**

> sher and crill are my ocs :3c and yeah sher’s mad gay for that old fucker crill


End file.
